Miracle for the Heart
by Tabitha12
Summary: BY MARY AND AMANDA Captain Daniel Gregg receives a very special visitor on Christmas Eve, 1970.


_**Not a Day On story. All usual disclaimers apply. Carolyn Muir and family and Daniel Gregg belong to 20th Century Fox. G.I. Joe is Hasbro. Suspend all rational thought for the duration of this story, and Merry Christmas!**_

**A Miracle For the Heart**

**Mary and Amanda**

**Christmas Eve, 1970**

"There, my dear, I believe Jonathan's GI Joe aircraft carrier is all in one piece," Daniel announced with satisfaction. Shaking his head, the ghost added, "In my day, Father Christmas brought much less-complex gifts."

"Thank you for the help, Daniel," Carolyn Muir smiled.

"Keep calling me by my Christian name. That's all the thanks I need, Carolyn." His voice was tender.

"I can't believe it took me so long to get around to it," Carolyn admitted, shyly. "I probably never would have, if you hadn't broken the ice when my parents renewed their wedding vows."

"I was caught up in the _spirit_ of the moment," the ghost admitted, smiling back at her. "But I am glad I did. I just wish..." he trailed off.

"I know," Carolyn whispered softly, and unsaid words passed between them.

"I thought perhaps to celebrate successfully putting that contraption together that you and I could toast the season, my dear?" the Captain suggested, after a moment.

"I would love it," Mrs. Muir agreed. "Shall I meet you in the wheelhouse?"

Shaking his head, the ghost produced two glasses. "Just you stay out of my wheelhouse. You might see something you should not. Saint Nicholas may have made an early stop up there." His blue eyes twinkled.

Flushing, Carolyn accepted the glass. "You shouldn't have, but thank you. I admit I was sort of hoping that we might continue last year's dream? I know it's late to ask, but..."

Startled, the ghost peered at her. "Really? I was not sure you liked it. You never mentioned it, after all."

At first, Carolyn averted her eyes, then met his gaze steadily. "It was the best Christmas gift I've ever had. I just did not know how to… tell you. I just… the only bad part was that it was only a dream, and like all my dreams concerning you, too short."

Time stopped for a moment, and then the Captain inclined his head. "These things take time, my dear, but I will do my best."

Carolyn shivered. Feeling just slightly daring, she said, "If you need a few ideas, I wouldn't mind picking up right where the other one left off... we didn't get to let Martha plan a New Year's wedding, and it sounded wonderful. I loved it, Daniel..." she blushed. "...Us that way. In love, happy, together..." she broke off, swallowed the last of her Madeira and continued. "You know there's nothing I would love more than to be with you… really with you… in your time or mine. I treasure that dream I had with you. I think all of us do."

Daniel smiled, a little sadly. "Dear lady, much to my regret, a dream is all I can give you. Making that come true in reality is beyond even me."

"I'll take once upon a dream, if that's all we can have."

"I don't deserve you, my darling."

She blushed again, then said lightly, "I know, but you're stuck with me."

Daniel gave her a look that was almost as good as a kiss. "I'll see you in the morning?"

"Bright and early," she smiled. "I'm sure Jonathan will see to that. Candy is starting to get the idea that if the presents are there at five in the morning they will be there just as much at seven in the morning, or later!"

"Bright girl… just like her mother."

Carolyn smiled again through misty eyes that almost looked like tears were falling, but not quite. "Goodnight, my dear," she whispered, then, putting her glass down on the coffee table, she blew her ghost a kiss, and climbed the stairs alone.

XXX

Daniel fully intended to give the family a dream, after his nightly patrol. Night watch may have been a useless exercise, but one he had felt obligated to perform for decades now. Yet, as he made his rounds, the ghost's restlessness increased. He was not sure; should the dream begin where it had ended, with the kiss he had replayed in his mind more times than he cared to admit? Or pick up at New Year's, with the wedding? Their first married Christmas, set a year after the last one? Blast, he should have at least planned this before now, even if he had been unsure whether or not it would be executed. He simply did not know what would be best, and could not make his mind focus well enough to hold four, no, make that five — he'd have to include that wretched snail too — minds.

Well, a dream that can take a month in the mind is only a few moments in reality. There was time. With a sigh, he retired to his wheelhouse to work on his charts and logs, but that was almost as futile an exercise as trying to plan a dream for five. Nevertheless, he persisted, but then as the clock struck three, he suddenly felt another presence in the house. Claymore? No… NOT Claymore… he had absolutely no reason for being here, especially at this time of night. _Please, God, DON'T let it be Elroy Applegate, here to surprise us for Christmas…_ Prepared to defend his family, he dematerialized from the wheelhouse and reappeared in the parlor. A strange figure was standing in front of the fireplace, fiddling with the stockings that Carolyn and the children had hung there, right before they had retired. Daniel watched, silently, as the man reached for a glass of milk that was sitting on the mantle and then for a leftover cookie, still in the plate that the children had put on a plate for Santa. Curiously, Daniel continued to watch as the man read the note to Santa the children had left… one he swore that he had Carolyn had burned before she had retired for the night!

Infuriated at the invasion of his privacy, and his home, the ghost spoke up. "Avast there, you pirate! Speak now before… before I skewer you!"

The figure turned and smiled. "Nonsense, old fellow. Have you no eyes? Don't you know who I am?"

Daniel surveyed the bearded, overweight figure, in black boots in front of him.

"I know who you look like, rather…" he frowned.

"Then, I must be he," the man returned.

"Nonsense, you… burglar," Daniel retorted. "Or are you another ghost hunter?"

The other man laughed. "I'm not a burglar! I BRING gifts! Surely even you, even being gone as long as you have been, know who I am! As for being a ghost hunter, ludicrous."

"Who you LOOK like and who you are, are not the same." There was a trace of thunder outside. "You can't possibly be…" the Captain broke off. "I repeat, what are you doing here?"

"My word, Daniel Elias…" the man smiled, reached for the last cookie and sat down on the couch. "…Have you really forgotten me? I'm Santa Claus."

"Poppycock and balderdash."

"You said that, or something like it. Nevertheless, I am he... also known as Kinder Klaus, St Nick…"

"You CAN'T be..."

The man continued, as if the ghost hadn't spoken. "To the Dutch, I am Sint Klaas. The Greek call me Hagios Nikolaos. In Italy, I am Babbo Natale." He smiled "I must say, I do prefer that to Black Peter, which is how I am known in Morocco. In Japan, I'm Santa no ojisan, and in China I'm Shengdan Laoren." He shrugged. "Pere Noel, P Norsk, Julenissen, Kerstman, Joulupukki, Sinter Klaas, Grandfather Frost, Kris Kringle, Father Christmas…" He paused again. "My wife sometimes just calls me 'That jolly old Elf.' I prefer Chris, myself, but I answer to them all."

"You aren't dressed like Santa Claus…" Daniel gestured to the man's brown suede jacket, lined with lamb's wool, and mucklucks. "You are seriously lacking in that area, may I say."

"Maine winters bite right through you," the man answered, picking up his sack. "My red outfit isn't nearly warm enough. Besides, that red suit is just a fallacy, one of the many legends that's sprung up about me over the years. Actually, when I deliver toys, I dress for the state and/or the country I am in. I'd look quite silly, dressed in fur while I was delivering presents in Hawaii, don't you think?" He grinned. "Surely you understand, Daniel. You're a ghost, but I didn't expect to see you dressed in a white sheet, and rattling chains."

The ghost looked startled at this statement. "Well, sir, whoever you are, at least your excuses are creative." He folded his arms over his chest. "Now just who are you, really, and why are you here?"

"I told you," the man answered briefly, and frowned at the empty plate on the coffee table. "I must say, I am disappointed… You and Carolyn ate almost all of Martha's cookies. I was so looking forward to those… they're my favorites! And I haven't had them in two years... And really, man, burning the note Jonathan and Candy left was a waste of time. You know I love to read children's letters. Especially when they still really believe in me. I must say I think this might be the last year for Candy, though. Sad…" His voice trailed off.

Captain Gregg looked at the man closely. Clearly the man in front of him was insane, but not dangerous. "I could get more," he answered, deciding to humor the fellow.

"Could you, dear boy? That would be wonderful." The old man looked delighted.

Shrugging, and deciding that some how, some way, the man knew who and what he was, he disappeared and reappeared a second later, another plate of cookies in hand. Handing them to the man, he gave the stranger a pointed look. "Continue, sir."

"You know, I could ask you the same question," 'Santa' said thoughtfully. "Why are you prowling around this time of night, pouncing on well-meaning people like myself?" He took a bite of a cookie. "Excellent, excellent!"

"You are an intruder in my home. I am merely protecting my family from… whomever you are."

"Oh, calm down, Daniel." The man waved a hand. "Have a seat," he added, settling himself further on the sofa.

"You, sir, do not have permission to call be by my given name. Now then, you appear to be harmless, so I am willing to forgive your trespassing… this time. If you leave as soon as you have finished Martha's cookies."

"Captain Gregg, I can't do that. I told you. I am Santa Claus. I have gifts to deliver."

The spirit's voice stayed level. "Well, Santa, if that's who you really are, isn't it time you were moving along? You must have a lot of ground to cover."

"Oh, I'm a little like you in that respect, Daniel," the other man said calmly. "I reorder time when I need to. The difference is, I can only do it on a few nights a year, and my passport to alter time varies by country. Already visited Holland, for example, weeks ago, on the sixth. You can do it more often, at least for those in your immediate circle... like you did when you stopped time and told Claymore what his funeral would be like. Or stretched things out a bit when you were brainwashing that little Helmore boy."

The Captain was startled. How did this stranger know these things?

'Santa,' settled still deeper into the sofa. "This couch is a vast improvement over that one you brought back from Madrid," he said, contentedly.

"How do you know what sort of furniture has occupied this house in the last hundred and thirty years?"

"I'm telling you again. I'm Santa Claus. I have my ways." He smiled mysteriously and then looked at the seaman closely. "Dear me, you aren't looking quite up to par, Captain. Is your afterlife treating you poorly?"

"My afterlife is no concern of yours, Santa Claus…" He broke off. "What am I saying? You aren't Santa, Saint Nick or any other variation I can mention."

"You're still a skeptic, I see…"

"I am not a skeptic. I merely believe what I believe."

"I heard you were getting better," Santa sighed. "Living with the Muirs was supposed to help that."

"You mentioned them before… How do you know about them? How long have you been spying on them? On me?"

"I won't say I know all," the old man shrugged. "But I do have spies everywhere, reporting on behavior, naughty and nice alike."

"I thought that was just in that song," Daniel started. "Nobody knows everything."

"Don't songs ever have basis in truth, Captain?"

The seaman shifted uncomfortably, remembering a certain "piece of doggerel" he had written for Carolyn more than a year before. "Sometimes, perhaps."

"And this is a "sometimes," sir," Santa said quietly.

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose and looked tired. "Why are you here?" he demanded. "If you are who you say you are, why have I never seen you before?"

"'Why' is too complex a question, Captain Gregg. Let's just say, you never had reason before now. Tonight, you do."

The mariner snorted. "Really? And how might this year be different?" Without thinking, his eyes shifted to the ceiling and floors above where he knew his 'family' lay sleeping. "As far as I can tell, this Christmas is exactly like the last."

"Did Martha know you last Christmas, Daniel?"

"Well, no..."

"Keep in mind, Captain, no two days are identical, not even Christmas. Especially not Christmas."

"I suppose so. But you have to remember, Santa, or whoever you are, what with one thing or another, I have seen quite a few of them."

"As someone who has seen more than a thousand, the number you have seen fails to impress me. You were not this hard to convince when I left you your first ship's model when you were seven."

The seaman's eyebrows shot up. "How did you...?" He shrugged. "Never mind. Getting a ship of that sort is a popular wish for a boy of that age and time. You knowing that doesn't mean anything. Just because I received one, doesn't mean that you are who you say you are... Though I must admit, the idea is fascinating. Now really, man, how did you get in here and what do you want? Tell me quickly before I wake Ca... Mrs. Muir and she has you arrested."

"The way I got in here?" The little man laughed so hard his stomach shook like jelly. "Exactly as what is usually written about me; down the chimney, naturally! I must add that I was most sorry when you quit believing… your Aunt Violet's ginger cookies were excellent. Mrs. Claus always told me I should wake her and ask for the recipe, but that really is against policy… though I suppose you could pass your Aunt's recipe book along to Martha… she would find it a great Christmas present, I think."

Now the ghost really looked startled. "Aunt Violet's ginger cookies?" he sighed. "I haven't thought of those in years... Martha makes good ones, but still not quite like hers." Daniel shrugged. "So tell me, Santa, if that's who you really are... what are you doing here?"

"Well, according to my calendar, it is Christmas Eve. What do you think I am doing here?"

"Ah. Granting the children their hearts desire... at least until New Year's. Well, do that, if you must. I rather envy you this delusion of yours. I think adults need their hearts' desires granted more. I know I..." He broke off.

"I'm available to grant the heart's desire of whoever believes in me, Daniel."

"If you are old St. Nick you would know what my heart's desire is... and I am sure it is beyond even your power to grant that," the spirit answered, his voice sounding bitter.

"Don't be too sure about that." Rising, the old man started tucking a few small items into the stockings hung at the fireplace. "Humanity of course. You ARE asking quite a bit... but on the other hand, I haven't been able to visit you for a number of years. A very long time, actually. You haven't been exactly receptive to outsiders, even those of my sort." He turned back to the spirit. "Well, I suppose it MIGHT be possible. It's been quite a stretch of time since I was able to leave you a present. And you have been a much better... hmm... person? these last two years? Less bedeviling of Claymore and that sort of thing? He's a depressing fellow to try and do anything for at Christmas — that I grant you. Tell me, Daniel... what would you do with humanity if you had it? What has life been like for you these last two years with the Muirs? What have you learned? I know you have been naughty, teasing Claymore as you do, but you have actually gotten to be very nice... almost sweet at times, too."

"I am NOT sweet..."

"Yes you are... you can be. Now, what would you do?"

Daniel looked thoughtful. Something about this strange little man seemed to draw the truth out of him whether he wanted to admit it or not. "Everything I failed to do the first time. Of course, I would have, if I'd been able, I think, but she was born in the wrong time, or I was. I'd make the dream I gave my family last year a reality, adjusted for this present age, of course."

"Ah, Carolyn Muir. She is an amazing woman, isn't she? Proud thing. And of course it's obvious the way she feels about you." Santa paused. "Tell me, what has life been like for you these last two years or so? I could use a progress report. You know once in a while, it would be nice to get a thank-you note for a gift, Daniel. I would have thought your Aunt Violet would have taught you to do that."

The spirit looked abashed. "I fear I have not always lived up to Aunt Violet's teachings, and for that, an apology is due." His face turned introspective again. "The last two years have been wonderful. Granted, I had doubts, at first. After all, could Claymore actually bring anything good anywhere? However, the family being here has brightened up the old place. I'm rather glad it became a home for them, not for old seamen. And if they hadn't been here, I never would have gotten Claymore to convert that old warehouse. There are still rough spots, though. It gets too noisy at times. Carolyn can be terribly hardheaded about taking my advice. And Claymore still comes around. But, all in all, what I have now is more than I ever could hope to have."

"Thank you, Daniel. Always nice to know when my gifts are truly appreciated... not just languishing in the back of a toy box somewhere."

"You said that before. Your gift?"

"Certainly. You don't think Carolyn read of this old place being for lease by chance, do you? I decided after a hundred some odd years it was time to give you the family you should have had the first time around, and it was time for the Muir family to find someone like you, too."

"Yes... well... if you are Saint Nick, then why did Jonathan's GI Joe - whatchamacallit come "some assembly required?" It was most challenging. Could it have not come… assembled?"

"Ah…" the man shook his finger at the ghost. "But what Jonathan asked for was man-made, not elf made. Besides, Carolyn found that in Keystone. I had nothing to do with it, except hiding it until she showed up at the store. The rest was up to you. But you are getting off the subject. You, this family... my gift to you last … no I guess that's two years ago. I got an early start. Sent them to you in September, not at Christmas." The old elf smiled, then sighed. "Carolyn. Humanity. Yes, indeed. Come now. I can slow down time on Christmas Eve but this can't go on forever. Tell me, what would you do with your humanity if you had it?" Looking tired, the old man sat down on the sofa again.

"I've thought about that." Daniel hesitated. "More often than I care to admit. I think I would try to be everything I avoided the first time around. Marry Carolyn if she would have me, be a good a father as I know how to be to Candy and Jonathan... and more children, too, if the good Lord sees fit. Be an upstanding member of the community. Carolyn and I write well together... I'd like to continue that. Do all the things we ever thought of… dreamed of being."

"Oh, I think she'd have you," the old man smiled. "I rather started that process when I sent her here two years ago. I know it took me a while to find the right one to send to you, but some gifts are easier than others." He pulled out an old pocket watch and looked at it. "Time is fleeting, Daniel. Even in the extended state it is in now. I rather thought you would want to marry Carolyn Muir... and you have already proved what a good father you would be. Candace and Jonathan love you, you know. This gift would be for them, for Martha, for their dear mother, even for that little dog of theirs as well as you." He glanced to the terrier, asleep by the fireplace, oblivious of the beings in the room. He reached into his bag and put another present in front of the sleeping dog's nose. "My question remains. What else, Daniel? Somehow I don't see Carolyn putting up with the idea of you... say, becoming a sea captain again and being gone for weeks... months at a time. If you were human, what would you DO? How would you spend your life? Contribute to your family's support? Not that being the best husband and father isn't the most important thing you could strive for."

Standing, Daniel rocked on his heels. He was not at all sure. "Well, Carolyn and I do seem to collaborate well. Perhaps a career in writing? I suppose if you have all the newfangled paperwork they have invented in the last hundred years up your sleeve, you could give me the credentials to be a history teacher, perhaps?"

The old man clapped his hands. "Excellent! Your first answer is a somewhat obvious one... I mean, really, man, you've been writing with Carolyn one way or another for ages... but the second! That's inspired! And I would imagine, in time, the town's people could get over the fact that you look so much like one of their most outstanding heroes. And the idea is rather altruistic... for you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You can be rather self-centered, at times, Daniel. Just a wee bit pompous perhaps… You are a hero in this town, you know. You are popular, and known... It'd be a shame for you to lose your beard… I rather like beards, myself," he mused, tugging at his own snowy white one. "But I doubt it will really come to that! Ho, ho, ho! You, Daniel Gregg, have improved no end! Family life has been good for you. As you can see, you can have a family without being turned into a poodle by the fireplace!"

"Shh!" The spirit whispered furiously as his words came back to haunt him. "You're going to wake up the whole family!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Daniel. No one can see or hear me unless I wish it. Now as for that temper of yours... if you were to be human…"

"My temper is most controlled, blast it!"

"Really? What about Claymore? Mister Wilkie? Teasing those honeymooners? Making a shambles out of the park during the election? Not to mention wreaking havoc at the museum."

Daniel scowled. "Defending one's home and family is a priority. Paul Wilkie wanted to turn the place into a circus. The blighter thought I was a blasted owl. Likewise, Joshua T. Albertson. As for Gladys and Harvey, well, they did get a memorable wedding out of it. It was apparent Harvey was more than anxious. Claymore…" the ghost shuddered. "He's always up to something that would profit himself at others' expense, and when the others in question are my loved ones or myself, I will not allow it. Besides, he might be a decent person if he was duly inspired."

The old man smiled. "You have a point there. Even old Claymore has improved due to your influence. But then you have, also. But Daniel, we are getting rather off the subject again. We were talking about you and about your ability to believe in miracles, and about faith and love. Rather like the Velveteen Rabbit in Jonathan's storybook. The boy hasn't lost the ability to believe. None of your family has. Otherwise, they wouldn't believe in, and love you. What about you, Daniel? What would it take for you to have a little faith… and believe in the wonder and magic of Christmas again?"

Daniel thought. "To touch Carolyn's hand, " he said slowly. "Just to be able to touch her… hold her… in something other than a dream…"

Santa nodded. "Now that's more like it. Now I can help you," he said, looking pleased.

"I haven't even decided if I believe you are Santa Claus," the ghost protested.

"As I think I have pointed out, who else could I be?"

"Another spirit?" Daniel said doubtfully, "I do remember one I know that had rather a penchant for practical jokes. I don't know why I am telling you this. I don't even really know how you got in here or why I haven't sent you packing!"

"You know why. Now come now, Daniel. If I were a spirit, you would sense it. You know that."

"I also know better than to believe in magic," the ghost said, looking tired.

"Christmas magic is different. And you certainly gave a good impression of believing in that last year…" Santa retorted. "Giving the Muir family that dream… and Claymore, too."

"It was the only thing I could give them." His face grew soft.

"And yourself, Daniel? Be honest. That was a gift for you, also." The old man stood, approached the spirit and looked up at him.

"Aye, but…"

"You could give them so much more, Daniel, if you only believe."

"In you?"

"And in yourself."

"I want to, but…"

"But nothing, Daniel. Have a little faith. Believe in miracles. Things have been going fairly well so far."

"I want to try..."

"Trying is why you fail. You have to _believe_."

"It would be so much simpler, if I had proof. I've been trying to have faith and believe for more than a hundred years. I think that's why I am still here."

"Then go the extra mile, Daniel. You're so close. You could have a wonderful life. Make the leap of faith, once and for all. I don't think you will be sorry. You certainly love this crew of yours enough to risk it."

"I…"

"Daniel, how can you doubt that miracles happen? You helped make one possible. That family upstairs could have fallen into a long-lasting gloom if a certain ghost hadn't made room on his 'ship' for them. Come, Daniel. Believe in miracles. Believe in yourself." Reaching out, the old man put a hand on the seaman's shoulder and as Daniel watched, the man seemed to glow brighter in the dark room.

The ghost squinted in the brightness. "Who ARE you?"

"I told you, Daniel Alexander Gregg, I am St. Nicholas, and I am here to grant your fondest wish for Christmas."

"I believe you, sir…" the seaman whispered. "I don't know why, but I do believe you. And if, by the grace of a miracle I am given a chance, I will be the best husband and father that I know how to be. I promise you that."

The man only nodded his head, and then grew brighter and disappeared with a small 'pop,' and suddenly, Daniel found himself not in the parlor, but on the widow's-walk. Dazed, he gazed into the night, and saw what could only be a sleigh, pulled by eight reindeer, flying off into the distance. He blinked, and when he looked again, the figures had vanished.

When Daniel recovered the ability to move, he popped from room to room and checked on his family. He knew deep down that his visitor had been harmless, but he had to be sure they were all right. Then, finally, he landed in the front room. Nothing seemed different, nothing except the feeling of overwhelming peace that filled him. Scruffy looked up sleepily from his spot by the fire. But the little dog's face was inscrutable, and the ghost watched as Scruffy's eyes closed once again.

Daniel shook his head. Had it all been a dream? A delusion brought on by wishful thinking? Blast… he HAD meant to give the family a sequel to last year's dream, but now it was too late… and his mind was too unsettled. He could never manage to hold five minds in a story line for any length of time now. Carolyn would not have forgotten the idea of a dream for Christmas, but he would explain it to her. She would surely understand. There were other nights. Perhaps a dream to begin the year...

Shaking himself out of his musings, the ghost looked around the room once again. The only light came from the fire and from a stray moonbeam, but even with such limited illumination, he could tell, nothing seemed to have changed. Scruffy slept on peacefully. For all his blustering, he knew that had there been a visitor, the little dog would have barked or made some fuss. Yet, he was completely lost in doggy dreams.

Shaking his head at his own folly, the spirit once more began his patrol. There was no way anyone else would be boarding his ship tonight.

XXX

Daniel was still on the widow's-walk Christmas morning at six a.m. when Jonathan opened the trap door leading to the roof, Candy right behind him. "Merry Christmas, Captain!" they chirped, looking up at him, their eyes bright.

"Good morning, my dears!" He turned to greet them. "Merry Christmas! So, you two are up bright and early!"

"I wanted to sleep," Candy said. "But Jonathan woke me up, and I couldn't go BACK to sleep. That was a half-hour ago. So we figured we would come and find you."

"Is your mother awake yet? And Martha?"

Jonathan nodded. "Uh, huh. Martha just put sticky buns in the oven, and Mom is making coffee. She said we should come and get you, and it will be time to open presents in about ten minutes."

"Yeah," Candy added. "You're ready, aren't you?"

Smiling, Daniel looked down at the two children he considered his own. "Naturally…" he answered, then glanced down at their feet. "Where are your slippers?"

"Uh, we forgot them…" Jonathan answered. "We were in a hurry…"

"And you are going to catch your death," the spirit smiled again. "It's freezing up here. Now…" he paused, gesturing toward the opening from whence they came. "Skit, scat, scoot your way right back downstairs, mates. Footwear! Immediately!"

"Aye-aye!" They saluted, and disappeared through the trap door.

The spirit vanished and reappeared in the parlor.

"Merry Christmas, Captain!" the two women said together.

"Merry Christmas," he returned.

"Where are the children?" Carolyn asked, a slight frown coming to her face.

"Upstairs finding their slippers. They should be here momentarily," the spirit answered. "I…" he stopped as Carolyn shot him a questioning look, then Martha broke in.

"I think my sticky buns are almost done… I'll be back in a moment. Excuse me."

The moment she was out of sight, Carolyn turned back to the ghost.

"Merry Christmas, Daniel," she repeated. "I… I'm assuming you had some trouble with the dream…"

She was interrupted as the children came bursting into the room.

"Can we open stuff yet, Mom?" Jonathan queried, excitedly.

"May we, and not yet! Martha's still in the kitchen, right, Mom?" Candy half explained, half questioned.

"Right," their mother nodded, "But you can go get the stockings down. She'll be here in a minute."

"Yay!"

"I'm sorry, Carolyn," the Captain murmured as soon as the children had moved away. "I couldn't manage the dream… something happened last night. I'm not sure what. I'm not even sure I didn't have some kind of weird hallucination… I'll tell you more, later…"

The spirit was interrupted again as Martha entered the room bearing a large tray, filled with coffee and accouterments and a plate stacked high with her county-famous sticky buns. The next few minutes were spent getting everything served, and the family started eating.

"Isn't it cool we can all celebrate together this year?" Candy asked, taking a big bite.

"Yeah," Jonathan agreed. "Our first year here was fun, and our second year with the baby and that neat dream the Captain gave us was great, but this year is best of all because we are all a real family."

The Captain's face took on a wistful look as he glanced at his lady, and Carolyn blushed a pretty shade of pink, but the children didn't seem to notice as they put down their breakfast and made a dive for the stockings now lying on the floor.

"One for each of us. You too, Captain," Candy announced, as she doled them out.

The all laughed as the stockings were turned upside down. Carolyn had put toothbrushes in each one, a tradition. Along with the usual array of candy and nuts and a small tangerine in each, Martha had a new set of measuring spoons, Jonathan five new erasers and Candy five new hair ribbons… all stemming from the fact that they seemed to get lost around the house so easily. In her own stocking, Carolyn also extracted a new typewriter ribbon with a laugh, Martha admitting in a whisper that she had dropped it in that morning, quite aware of the fact that Carolyn never kept spares around. A small tin of pipe tobacco took up most of the top of the Captain's stocking, and with a laugh, he unearthed a new pipe scraper from the toe, and lots of Brazil nuts. His favorites.

"Now presents!" Jonathan exclaimed, eyeing the GI Joe display, already partly visible.

After the kids had thoroughly demolished the wrappings on all their gifts and reacted with suitable delight, the adults began on their gifts.

Each of them had a dated ornament, handmade with love, from each of the children. Granted, they were not the most attractive of presents, but they were beautiful.

Martha beamed as Carolyn opened the box from her.

"Martha! Oh, I'd forgotten how much I love to soak in Dead Sea bath salts after a hard day. I guess you didn't," Carolyn smiled, unscrewing the lid to sniff the clean aroma.

The housekeeper shrugged, flushing as she looked to gauge the ghost's reaction to her gift, a record album of Andres Segovia on the guitar playing classical music. "I know you don't care for technology, much, but thought maybe you'd like it a little better if you could hear something pretty, not just the Beatles or Monkees," she said.

"I will look forward to it," the spirit smiled.

"Open mine, please," Carolyn whispered.

Both Martha and the Captain obeyed. Martha could not have been more delighted with the little china figure of a carousel horse Carolyn had found to add to her collection. Daniel would have loved anything from his lady, but he did not have to work at all hard to be thrilled to get a new edition of Coleridge's poetry. His hundred-year-old copy was a bit fragile, after all.

Then, they opened the gifts from him. Daniel had some old piano music that he had cherished throughout his life, and now, it belonged to Martha, letting her know he admired her talent as well as trusted her with something dear to him. Carolyn opened a blue velvet box gingerly to reveal an intricate, silver pin of Celtic design set with a peridot.

"When I was in Scotland," he explained, "long ago, I heard the legend of the Luckinbooth. You are supposed to give it to your dearest friend or true love. Sometimes, they are one and the same. I had no idea at the time that the stone would so well match the future wearer's eyes, but I did like the story, and hoped to find the right person to give it to, someday."

Her cheeks now a dark pink, Carolyn smiled demurely. "The best gift for last, it seems. Would you pin it on me, Daniel?"

Stepping around Scruffy, who was working on the bone some kind elf had left for him, the ghost proceeded to do so, when Candy said, "Hey, there's another gift!"

"There is?" Carolyn looked startled. Not counting the beautiful gifts from the Captain, she knew exactly what was sitting under the tree.

"Yeah," Candy nodded her head. "This one." She held up an ornate, gold and red stocking. "It was hooked onto the side of the tree, but it doesn't say who it's from. I don't know how we missed it before. It's for you, Captain."

"Open it!" Jonathan added.

"In a moment," the Captain smiled, looking just a tad surprised. As he pinned the ornament to Carolyn's collar, he whispered softly. "You shouldn't have, my dear. What I have already received is a great deal."

Carolyn looked equally surprised, "But I didn't do it…"

The seaman's eyebrows went up as he glanced at Martha then back to his lady. "You're just being kind…"

"Really, Daniel."

"Open it! Open it!" Candy and Jonathan chanted together.

Slowly the Captain reached inside the stocking and pulled out a scroll, tied up with a golden cord, and as he did, a flurry of golden sparkles came out also, they seemed to envelop him for just a moment and then, fluttering gently to the floor, they disappeared. Untying the cord carefully, Daniel unrolled the parchment and began to read it slowly, and as he did, his eyes grew wide. Carolyn watched as, impossibly, the color drained from his face and then came back to it again.

"What does it say?" asked Jonathan.

"Read it aloud!" added Candy.

"Daniel, are you all right?" Carolyn joined in, coming close to him.

Unbelieving, Daniel cleared his throat and began.

_**Dear Daniel, **_

_**Merry Christmas, once again. **_

_**This scroll is my way of announcing to you, your gift. This year, after one hundred and one years, you have your heart's desire. You are, once again, Human. "No more ghosties for you," as Claymore would say, but somehow, I don't think you will mind! You will find all papers to prove your identity and ownership of Gull Cottage and whatnot upstairs in the guestroom. Also there you will find a gift certificate, for want of a better term. I haven't kept up with what modern needs are for the average human adult male of your age, but this certificate entitles you to wish for the requisite necessities of modern life to ease the transition. You have learned your lessons well, Daniel. This Christmas present is to you, but it is also to the family you know and love so well. Use it wisely.**_

_**Always believe in miracles, Daniel.**_

_**My best to you and yours, always,**_

_**Chris**_

_**(Santa Claus)**_

Silence hung in the air for what seemed like an indeterminable amount of time, then slowly; almost timidly Carolyn Muir reached up and gently pressed the tip of her Captain's Roman nose.

"Oh, my," she gasped. "It's true, you're… you're human? Forever?"

"Nothing is forever, love," he answered, reaching out to stroke her cheek softly, wiping her tear away as it fell. "But now, finally, I can be here, with you, and for you, and the children for as long as you want me to be."

"Always and always," Carolyn whispered, and, stepping closer, she allowed herself to be encircled in his strong arms, and just for a moment the world around them was forgotten as the two soul mates finally kissed and fulfilled their destiny.

The moment was brief, as Candy and Jonathan, grasping what the words meant, threw themselves toward their hero.

Never mind what happened next, sufficed to say the noise and cheers created by one widow, one housekeeper, two children and one small dog was impressive, and when the din had died down, there were very few questions left concerning the future of the little family.

"Guess I need to start looking at wedding cake recipes," Martha chortled.

"Would tomorrow be too soon for a wedding?" Daniel Gregg asked, holding his love and his children closer, if that was possible.

"I was thinking New Year's Day, actually," Martha winked. "Like my plan in the dream YOU gave us last year!"

"Not a chance, Martha," the Captain grinned. "I've waited long enough!" he gave Carolyn another quick kiss.

"Me, too," Carolyn breathed softly, her knees weak. "Do we have to delay things that long?"

"Wedding licenses take three days, I believe," Martha chuckled again. "So that means the wedding can't possibly happen until December 28th. Now, I only have one more question…"

"And that would be?" Daniel grinned.

"What on earth do you think Claymore is going to say?"

Daniel laughed heartily. "I sincerely doubt Claymore will be too pleased with the news, Martha. For that matter, are you pleased? It will be more work for you, having me around."

"Oh, don't be silly," the housekeeper chided.

"Well," Candy said pragmatically, "the note said 'no more ghosties, as Claymore said,' so maybe you won't scare him anymore. And if he doesn't own Gull Cottage, then he won't need to come over. That ought ta make him happier."

"It makes us happier, that's what counts," her brother affirmed.

"He'll have to come over at least once," Carolyn said. "I want to start the paperwork so we can have a wedding as soon as possible. And he's the Justice of the Peace."

An anxious rap made Scruffy drop his bone to bark and everyone turned to stare at the door.

"I wonder who that is?" Martha frowned as she went to open it. "Well, speak of the devil," she called back after glancing out the peephole the Captain had installed right before Halloween. "It's Claymore!"

As the now former landlord entered, the little group could see that he was flustered.

"Merry Christmas, Claymore," Carolyn welcomed him.

"Oh, Merry Christmas, Mrs. Muir..." he trailed off, frowning.

"What can we do for you?" she prompted.

Fishing in the pocket of his overcoat, Claymore pulled out another scroll. "When I got up this morning, there was a stocking on my bedpost. I have no idea how it got there. I don't even own any red socks. But, I opened it..."

"Did it contain coal or switches?" Daniel teased.

"Oh, you! Neither, just this, a note that said there was a surprise for me at Gull Cottage, and a marriage license for… for… Mrs. Carolyn Muir and Daniel Gregg! Okay, I'm not totally dense, and I get that you and he are kinda… you know? But I can't marry a living and… er… ghostly… er… persons..."

With a grin, the Captain walked over and clapped his 'nephew' on the shoulder.

"How about two _living _people?"

It took a moment, but then it registered that he could feel a hand on his shoulder. Claymore's eyes got wide, and he fainted dead away. Out of habit, Daniel gestured toward a pitcher of water Martha had put on a side table earlier, smiling briefly when he realized he couldn't do that anymore. With a grin he reached for the pitcher manually and poured the contents over Claymore's head, remarking that with no ghosts around, this would probably be the last time it would happen.

As this was going on, Martha slipped up to the guestroom and found the papers Saint Nicholas had left, just as the scroll promised. As Claymore came to, she exchanged them for the marriage license he still had clutched in his hand. "Brace yourself, Claymore," she grinned. "That's just the tip of the Christmas tree."

With bloodless fingers, Claymore shuffled through the papers, read them, looked at the Captain's glowing face, then the papers, and sat down on the couch with a thunk.

"Human... he's human... and… this house. It's not mine anymore," Claymore blinked, looking at the documents. "You… you're really living?" he squeaked.

"Are you okay, Claymore?" the soon-to-be Mrs. Gregg asked in concern. He looked quite green, and not a Christmasy green, either.

Seeing the incipient tears in Claymore's watery eyes and mindful of the old saint's words, Daniel did not yell that it had "never had been his house," but merely nodded, "Aye. Would you care to join us in a wedding toast?" he asked.

"W-w-w-wedding?"

"According to this paper, the wedding license was issued December 22nd. We can have our Christmas wedding, if the justice of the peace doesn't faint."

"Yes, Claymore," Martha said, nodding. "The papers are dated three days ago. That means the Captain and Mrs. Muir can get married right away…" she broke off, and headed toward the kitchen. "Oh good grief, how am I going to put one together so fast? Without any spectral help? Oh, don't apologize, you two. I'm glad of it, but it just won't be the most elaborate ceremony in the world."

"That's fine, Martha. All that's important is whom I'm marrying," Carolyn assured her. She looked at her soon-to-be former landlord, who was shaking his head, dazed. "Claymore, are you sure you are all right? You aren't going to faint again, are you?"

"No, wouldn't dream of it. I may cry over losing all that lovely rent money, but I won't faint."

"We will give you a marriage fee," Carolyn promised.

"Indeed," Daniel agreed. "Are you up to conducting a ceremony, lad?"

"Me? You really want me to do it?" Claymore goggled.

"If you would not mind," Daniel said, pulling one ear.

"I… I'd be honored, sir," Claymore said, pulling himself together visibly. Letting out a sigh, he added, "I'm really happy for you. It's just a shock, y'know."

"You really don't mind too much about Gull Cottage?" Candy piped up.

Claymore's face contorted as he considered, but finally he allowed, "No. Really. I mean, I guess it's only right, and if I don't own this place, it's not my worry anymore. So, HE can't yell at me, ever again, right?"

Now, Daniel had to think, but agreed. "Correct."

"Okay. I'm happy then."

"And may miracles never cease," Carolyn half smiled, and once again, gave her Captain a kiss, and as the sound of sleigh bells were heard in the distance, the ghost… EX-ghost… and Mrs. Muir looked deeply into each other's eyes and imagined all their Christmases together, still to come.

The End


End file.
